MEMORIA
by callousfinch
Summary: This story is not told in linear fashion. It jumps around. Sometimes it skips entire chunks of the plot. This isn't by design; it's just how I like to write. So, I apologise for any confusion it might cause you. Perhaps you can come up with the rest of the story in your head.


It was early evening. Rachel and Dale had spent most of the day in the mineshaft, mining for ores. So far it had been a pretty productive trip. Their back packs were full of iron, gold, diamond, redstone, lapis lazuli, and more. It was a good haul. Hopefully, it would last them several weeks. That sounded good to Dale: he was exhausted. His arms ached from all the mining and his back was sore from lugging that heavy back pack all day. Dale's mind was swirling with thoughts of taking off these filthy, grime-covered clothes, and slipping into a hot bath. He couldn't wait to get home.

"Come on," he said to Rachel, who was engrossed with a shiny ruby, running her hands over the smooth-sparkling surface. "Bag it and let's go. I'm tired. I think my feet are going to fall off."

"Yeah, me too," Rachel said. Her voice sounded oddly distant. She continued to rub the gem like it was some magical object.

Dale walked over to her and looked over her shoulder at the gem in her hands. It was about the size of her fist, perfectly smooth; not a single imperfection anywhere. Clear too- you could see right through it. It was certainly eye-catching.

"What's that?" Dale asked.

"I don't know," Rachel said, her voice detached. "But it looks almost exactly like a gem I found years ago."

She slipped it into her pocket and turned to face Dale. She looked flustered for a moment, like she didn't know where she was. Then she shook her head. "Okay. Let's get back to the surface. The sooner the better. I'm getting a weird feeling down here."

She began to walk back the way they had come. After a moment, Dale followed.

A few moments' silence lapsed. Then Dale broke it with a question. "So, uh... what did you mean, you're getting a weird feeling?" For some reason he felt weird asking her that, like he was intruding on her privacy or something. It was weird.

But Rachel didn't seem to take offense, much to Dale's relief. "I just got... I don't know... the chills? You ever get the chills?"

"Oh yeah, whenever I'm with you." Dale was horrified. The words had just escaped from his mouth without consent. Rachel turned to regard him curiously. He hurried to recover himself: "Oh wow, did I say that? Good grief. I must be more tired than I thought."

"Uh-huh," Rachel said slowly.

A long, awkward silence stretched out. Dale's cheeks were burning and he had an uncomfortable, tingly sensation in the back of his neck. He was groping, searching desperately for something to say, some way to break the uncomfortable silence, but before he could say anything, Rachel suddenly let out a cry and collapsed to the ground, prompting him to rush over to her and put a hand on her arm. He almost never touched her.

"What happened?" he asked worriedly.

* * *

Dale kept a careful eye on Rachel as they made their way back to camp. What voice had she heard back there in the cave? Dale hadn't heard anything; was it possible she'd just imagined it? She didn't have an active imagination in that sense, at least, not that he knew of. She didn't just _hear_ stuff like that.

He didn't want to ask. He was afraid she'd be offended. Besides, she would probably relate the story to everyone else back at camp. Or would she? Maybe she'd rather keep it quiet.

He had to say something. He had to know what to do. What course of action to take.

He mused over that for almost an hour: how to address the subject. How to bring it up. Everything he thought of, he was worried would come across as offensive or intrusive. It was so frustrating that he couldn't just _say_ something. It just seemed that whenever he was with her, words were hard to come by.

Finally, after an hour and ten minutes, the lights of the camp came into view. Dale knew it was now or never to ask. He began to open his mouth, but before he could say even one word, Rachel turned sharply, so sharply in fact that he recoiled in shock. He opened his mouth again, but she cut him off with a taut, stern voice:

"Listen Dale. I'd rather you not tell anyone about what happened back in the cave. At least for now. Until I can figure it out. I know you're worried about me, but I promise you I'm fine. I was probably just tired. And that gem..." She reached into her pocket and pulled out the item, turned it over in her hands, considering. "Well... Maybe it just made me recall some... memories."

Dale had so many questions. What was it about that gem? Why did it matter so much? He wanted to ask, but couldn't. He wanted to punch himself he was so frustrated.

Rachel shoved the gem back into her pocket and looked back up, into Dale's face. Right into his eyes. Her gaze was so intense he had to look away, chills running down his spine.

"So... until then... please just keep quiet about it. For me," she finished.

He nodded. Of course he would do as she said. He couldn't imagine refusing.

"And the gem?" he asked.

"Yeah, that too. Don't tell anyone. Okay?"

"Okay." He met her eyes again and smiled. She smiled back. Oh, she was beautiful.

"Good. Thank you. Really." She turned back to the camp and continued walking.

* * *

Dale climbed the stairs, exhaustion tugging at his limbs. He had to cling to the railing to keep from falling. At the top, he turned and began stumbling to his room. But before he could, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He would have jumped if he wasn't so utterly worn out. Slowly, he turned around. Orson stood there. His bright, piercing eyes cut through the darkness like, almost inhuman.

"Is Rachel okay?" the man asked.

Alarm flared through Dale. Of course Orson had noticed Rachel's odd behavior; he was the most attentive man Dale knew. Dale trusted Orson, and he had a feeling that sentiment was mutual. He hated to have to lie to him. But he promised Rachel.

"I think so," he said, his words slurred. "I mean, I haven't noticed anything."

"Really? Nothing?" Orson pressed.

Dale nodded fervently.

Orson's eyes narrowed. Dale's heart beat increased. He had a feeling the man could see right through his lie. Orson held his gaze for several long moments. Dale wanted nothing more than to look away, but he forced himself to stare into those bright eyes.

"Okay. Fair enough." Orson finally broke the connection. "Just keep an eye on her for me, will you? And report to me if you notice anything strange."

Dale nodded eagerly. "Yeah, sure man. Will do. Good-night."

He turned and stumbled to his room before Orson could ask anything else.

* * *

Dale gently tapped his knuckles against Rachel's door.

"Hello?" came her voice from the other side.

Dale swallowed; "Um, yeah, it's me. Listen... I was just-"

"Please leave me alone," Rachel interrupted.

Dale winced. Those words... those simple words, said so casually... without meaning... cut into him like the sharpest knife. He almost turned, almost walked away, but somehow, he held his ground.

He loved Rachel. He'd denied it for so long; tried to tell himself it wasn't true. But he couldn't do it anymore. He knew he was in love. Sure as he breathed air.

And because he loved her, he knew he couldn't just let her bottle up her secrets like this. She had to come clean. She had to tell him what was wrong. And he wasn't going to leave until she did just that.

"Listen Rachel, I don't know what's going on, but I'm worried about you. I know you're not okay. I've known you way too long. I know when something's wrong. Listen, it's okay for you to have secrets. But not when they endanger you're life, or anyone else's. This is one of those rare cases. You've _got_ to tell me what's bothering you. Okay? I'm not leaving until you do. So why don't you make it easier on both of us and just tell me?"

A long silence followed. It stretched on so long that Dale was beginning to think she was just going to ignore him. Anger sparked up inside him, and he opened his mouth to say more, but at that very moment, soft footsteps emanated from within the room. Then the door opened.

Dale caught his breath. Rachel's tear-stained face stared at him through the crack. Then the door opened all the way. Rachel stared at him for another moment, then gestured with a firm tilt of her head, indicating for him to come in.

Dale had never been in her room before. Had never had any reason to go in. He'd caught glimpses though, when she passed in and out, or when Laura cleaned it for her.

As he stepped inside, he got a whole new look into her mind. It was very messy with clothes strewn everywhere. Her window was occupied with potted plants, most of them wilted. A fish tank sat on the cabinet on the far wall. Paintings hung from every wall; expressive depictions of beautiful landscapes, sunsets, animals. All made by her hand. He'd never seen her art before. It was like taking a direct look into her mind. And he found himself all the more attracted to her for it.

Rachel closed the door behind them and walked to the window. She paused in front of it and folded her arms over her chest, hugging them tightly. She looked so frail, so vulnerable. Dale was filled with the urge to wrap his strong arms around her and draw her close to himself, feel her hair against his lips...

"That gem." She spoke, her voice resonating in the silence. "The one I found in the cave with you. I have another one like it."

She opened the drawer in front of her and rummaged through the contents for several moments. Finally, she pulled out a stone. It was an exact replica of the one sitting on her dresser.

"I found it years ago. With Keith."

There it was: the name drop. Keith, Rachel's lover- before he'd met a gruesome end in a vat of lava. Rachel had never truly moved on from the incident. She still clung to the memory of him. And that was the main reason why Dale couldn't foresee a future where they'd be together. She couldn't let go of Keith. His throat knotted and he felt tears tugging at his eyes, but he managed to compose himself with several deep, silent breaths.

"When I saw it in the mine... well, I knew what it was: a sign." Rachel shivered and placed both gems down on the dresser, side by side.

"A sign?" Dale repeated hoarsely.

"Yes," she said. "A sign from Keith."

Dale's heart dropped into his stomach. "What do you mea-"

"I didn't think it could be true," Rachel interrupted, turning her gaze to the window. "But then I heard him. I heard his voice in my head. That was why I collapsed. He said..." She let out a shaky, reverberating breath, and Dale knew tears were imminent. "He said... 'I'm still here, baby.'"

A long, dreadful silence. Dale's heart was thumping against his chest. Part of him really, really wanted to dismiss her claims as wishful thinking. Maybe she missed Keith so badly that she'd imagined his voice. But the other part of him knew, deep down, that she wasn't crazy like that. Whatever she thought she heard... it had to be the truth.

"And then last night, after the fire, I... I heard him again." Rachel turned around and looked him in the eye. This time, he was able to maintain the stare. He fueled himself, his passion, his love for this woman, he fueled it into that single look.

Suddenly Rachel let out a cry and stumbled backward into the dresser, causing the gems to fall and shatter on the floor. She screamed and stared in abstract horror at the fragmented shards. Dale was so shocked he couldn't say a word. Somehow, he knew that _he_ was responsible for what had just happened, but he couldn't even begin to think how.

Slowly, Rachel's eyes moved away from the shards, and up to him. To his face. "You..." she murmured, her voice almost indiscernible.

Dale began backing away. "I..." he stammered. "I... I'm sorry. I have to go."

He turned and grabbed the doorknob, began to turn it. But as he did, Rachel said something that made him freeze.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Dale knew exactly what she meant. Slowly, ever so slowly, he turned his head around.

"I..." he said helplessly. "I couldn't."

Rachel tilted her head, carefully, to the side. "Why?" she asked softly.

Dale swallowed. It was all coming out now. Everything. His love for her. His frustration that she didn't love him back. That burning passion, that _intensity_ he felt whenever he saw her, whenever he heard her voice, whenever someone mentioned her name. "Because..." he said slowly, his voice shaking, "because I knew it was pointless."

A silence waned. Dale felt tears bubbling beneath the surface, brought on by his rampaging emotions. The last thing he needed now was for her to see him cry. So before that could happen, he opened the door, quietly slid out, and closed it behind him.


End file.
